Three Sunrises
by Lady Nailo
Summary: Three short stories about Pietro, Kurt, Kitty, and an empathic mutant caught between them all. KurtKitty [not hugely], slight PietroOC, slight KurtOC.
1. Silver and Gold

Disclaimer: Marvel owns them, but Kurt sleeps under my bed. Ana's mine, don't steal her :) Jean Gray is evil and should be shot several times. Kitty is an annoying valley girl, but a useful plot device. Scott is a dork, but I heart him anyway. Pietro doesn't really want to be evil, but it's the family business, and who would really disappoint Daddy when he's a super-powerful mutant? That's what I thought. 

Short Author Note: Eh, I don't know if I like this one...It's kind of jerky, but I guess that's how it wanted to be written. Took me about fifteen minutes initially, and then about an hour of re-editing. *sigh* I just can't get some bits right...More at the bottom, please read on :)   
  
  


First Sunrise (Beauty) 
    The first sunrise is beautiful, full of golden clouds and light so bright it blinds those lucky enough to witness it. Even after it's long over, bright spots hover in the vision, showing that while beauty may fade, the impression it leaves says with us much longer than we think.

**Silver and Gold**   
_Precious metals both…_

He could have breezed through the halls faster than anyone, so fast that they wouldn't even see him, only feel the slight breeze as he passed them by. But today, he had a reason for aimlessly meandering through the halls of the school. 13 lockers down from him, on the left side: Ana. 

Maybe it was the way she swung her blonde hair, long and wavy. It was like liquid gold. He would often say that to himself, but not when the others were around. It was inviting unending embarrassment to admit that he thought a woman's hair looked like liquid gold. Women, he was taught, were only good for two things: cooking and sex. And maybe cleaning. But that was all. 

Ana was absently twirling her hair in her left pointer finger as she looked in her locker. She was rifling through papers, examining one or two closely before replacing them. He could watch her outright - he was too quick for her to catch him if she noticed. He almost wanted her to notice, just this once. But no one else could. If one of the others (he couldn't call them friends) noticed that, he would never live it down. The embarrassment would kill him. 

She had blue eyes, too. He liked blue eyes. These were very light blue, and they offered up so much emotion…not hard to do, because she was an empath. Every time she passed by him, he could feel her. There was a whirlwind of emotions surrounding her - it followed her everywhere. Sure, she could suppress it, but when she walked by laughing with those friends of hers, he could feel it leaking through her shield. Happiness, trust, love…All those things that he felt so rarely, those wonderful emotions…She was saturated in them. That was the first thing that drew him to her. 

That freshman freak, Kitty, had come up to her then, chattering on about some inane thing that freshmen worried about. "Does my hair look alright?" "Do you think he'll like it?" "I'm so nervous, Ana…" Ana calmed her with one touch to her arm, smiling. She was so gentle, so caring…so unlike anyone he'd ever met before. 

"He'll like it just fine." 

His head perked up. There was sadness in that voice, and sure enough he could feel it as Kitty turned away, distracted by one of her other freshman friends. Blue eyes, sad, hurting… He concentrated for a moment. Yes, sadness. Hurt, rejection, even a hint of jealousy. Someone hurt her? Who was it? Some mindless jock that had blown her off because she lived with the X-Freaks? Not that any jock would know that she was one of the X-Freaks, but the Institute kids had a reputation. Jocks and the other popular kids didn't like hanging out with them very much. The only exception was the Gray chick. But then again, she had been popular before she had gone to the Institute. 

No, it wasn't a jock. A drama kid? No, she wasn't into that stuff. Geek? She could do so much better than that. It had to be another X-Freak. Good. He didn't mind killing one of them. He would, too, if they were hurting her. Not that he'd stick around long enough for the fool to figure out who did it. Zip, crack, zip. Easy enough. 

Fuzz-boy was coming down the hall now. He almost stuck out his foot to trip the goofball, just for the laugh, but for some reason he didn't this morning. Not that he didn't have a good reason to trip him. Fuzz-boy was always so…chipper. Freak. 

Kitty-cat had started giggling, huddled close to Ana's locker. Ana glanced up once, offering a small smile to Fuzz-boy as he opened his locker, three down from hers. Her emotions were pulled in now, closely guarded. That was a strange thing, because she lived with the blue freak. Why would she suddenly conceal her emotions when he was around? It wasn't like he didn't know. Kitty was still giggling her inane freshman giggle. 

"Hi, Kurt," she said, leaning against the lockers. There was definite flirting in that annoying voice. Fuzz-boy smiled charmingly. 

"Katzchen, meine Liebe," he said, bowing. What a dork. And, surprise surprise, little Kitty-cat giggled. Freaks, both of them. His glance turned to Ana. She was staring at Fuzz-boy and Kitty-cat with something between a smile and a sob. No emotions from her now. In fact, the air around her looked weird, like the air above hot pavement in the summer. She was outwardly calm, but he could tell from her eyes that she was on the verge of cracking. 

His attention was suddenly drawn back to Fuzz-boy when he let out a victorious cry and swept Kitty-cat up into his arms. He swung her around, and then dipped her down and kissed her, right in the middle of the hall. Cat-calls and shouts of "Get a room!" echoed across the linoleum. And Ana looked like an abandoned kitten in the rain. 

"Walk you to homeroom, Leibe?" Fuzz-boy held out his arm to Kitty-cat, who took it with yet another giggle. As she passed Ana, she grinned and reached out to squeeze her arm. 

"Thanks, Ana." 

Ana nodded, smiling with everything but her eyes. They followed Fuzz-boy and Kitty-cat as they walked arm-in-arm down the hallway, both grinning the most stupid looking grins. He groaned in disgust, looking back to Ana. She had turned back to her locker, her hands clenched in fists at her sides. The shimmering air around her suddenly disappeared, and a barrage of emotions assaulted his mind. A hint of happiness for her friends, a touch of pride for setting it up…But behind those shallow shields lay overwhelming sadness, deep hurt, and painful jealousy. Rejection. Even from down the hall he could see a tear slide down her cheek. And then, it came to him in a flash. 

So. She _liked_ Fuzz-boy. 

Stupid, stupid girl. She could have easily sabotaged the situation. Tell Fuzz-boy and Kitty-cat some convenient lies, and they'd end up hating each other. Then, she'd be free to waltz in and take the furry freak for herself. But, she was an X-Freak. And a genuinely nice person. She wouldn't do something that heartless to her friends. She actually _had_ a conscience. He was glad he had suppressed that bit of his personality a long time ago. 

Her locker slammed shut. The halls were clearing out - it was almost time for homeroom. Not that he really cared. He could get there in less than a second and no one would even notice. He looked up at her again; she was wiping the tears out of her eyes, those beautiful blue eyes…She shouldn't cry for Fuzz-boy. The guy was an idiot anyway, giving up that bundle of happiness and blonde hair for that flat-chested, anorexic freshman. Having Lancey-poo mooning over her was bad enough. Anyway, Kitty-cat would tire of the blue freakazoid in less than a week, and then Ana'd get him on the rebound. 

No, no, that wasn't it. Her emotions were telling him that something deeper was going on. She really _really_ liked the stupid fuzzball. She hated herself for wanting him to be unhappy, because she knew he was happy with Kitty-cat. The stupid girl actually thought she was wrong in wishing unhappiness on her friends. She needed to learn. Friends were only there to be used for one's own benefit. 

"What are you looking at?" Uh oh. He had stared for too long, and now those diamond eyes were focused on his. His mind went blank, and his mouth, working without his hyper-speed thinking, said the first thing that came firing from his brain. 

"Nothing, Pandora." He lifted his eyes to hers, reading the hurt in them. "You got a problem with that, X-Freak?" He cursed himself silently for causing her more pain and closed his locker, spinning the dial so fast it looked like it was going to lurch off the metal. His mind raced, trying to come up with some other thing to say. _I'm sorry. Forgive me. Forget about Fuzz-boy, you're too good for him. Come with me._ Ana lowered her head and turned away. 

"No," she said softly. "No problem. See you in English, Pietro." Against her back, her hair shone all the brighter as she walked down the hall, head bowed. He stared as she disappeared around a corner and was gone, leaving a faint trail of emotion behind her. 

Pietro sighed and leaned against his locker. _Stupid girl_. Stupid for liking Fuzz-boy. Stupid for being an empath. Stupid for being so painfully beautiful he couldn't look at her without feeling his stomach drop out. Stupid for making him want to be _good_. Traces of her sadness caressed his cheeks, drawing a tear from one of his eyes. He wiped it away with a quick movement and turned on his heel, heading for homeroom. He couldn't have gotten there in half a second, but today, he just walked. 

* * *

Yeah, it sucks. 

**German to English**:   
_Katzchen_: literally "Kitten" Kurt's nickname for Kitty. (as if you didn't know that)   
_meine Liebe_: my love 

Ana, as I said, belongs to me. Yes, I know there are several empaths in X-Men verse, but I promise you that I didn't even look at them when I developed her. As far as I knew, there weren't any other ones. My bad if there are. I've got more stories with Ana in them, but so far they're all unfinished or untyped. She's a fun character. I enjoy her. I always toyed with the idea of giving her to Pietro, but she insists that I give her to the fuzzy elf. So, I got back at her by writing this. Kitty/Kurt is my least favorite ship (aside from Jean/Scott and Kitty/Lance and possibly Amanda/Kurt), so this was a tiny bit painful for me. Maybe I just dislike anyone other than me getting my fuzzy. I don't know. So, maybe Ana will get her wish and end up with Kurt. I don't know yet. I think I have to mull that over. 

She's itching for a backstory, now. Damn her. 


	2. Two Shots of Happy, One Shot of Sad

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men (wish I did) or any of the related characters (even if some live in my closet). Don't touch Ana, she's mine. Besides, she just finished moving into my head; I don't think she wants to move again. Lyrics at the bottom belong to U2, from the song "Two Shots of Happy, One Shot of Sad". Author's note at the bottom; Enjoy!   
  
  


Second Sunrise (Warning) 
    _Red in morning, sailor's warning._ So the old saying goes, and it's true. The most beautiful sunrise is also the most deadly, and a wary traveler would do well to tread carefully under the blood red sky, for it speaks of dark clouds on the horizon. 

**Two Shots of Happy, One Shot of Sad**   
_But aren't they the same?_

How could he tell her? The twittering bird on his arm had once been his fondest desire, and now all he could think of was someone else. His tail lashed behind him, hitting Katzchen's leg. She made a noise of protest. 

"What's, like, with you?" He looked down at her, at eyes that radiated annoyance. She was too thin. He told her once after maneuvers that he could see her hipbones through her jumpsuit and she took it as a compliment. When he elaborated and said that he didn't have anything to hold on to when he hugged her, she'd stopped talking to him for a day. That was, of course, after she spitefully told him that here in America being fat was a bad thing. He sighed and shrugged. 

"I'm a little tired," he replied, an old excuse. His tail lashed again; damn that cursed appendage. It always gave him away; lying was practically impossible with it twitching every time he tried to. 

"You've been tired a lot, lately, you know." Katzchen's eyes held some concern now. He shrugged again. 

"It's nothing." 

Katzchen, the stupid girl, wouldn't give up. "You should, like, tell someone." Yes, but who to tell? The Professor would subject him to a mental scan, Ororo would put him to bed and baby him like the son she didn't have, Logan would simply assign him extra time in the Danger Room. Scott would try to be sympathetic, Jean would read his mind whether he agreed to it or not, and Rogue would care but pretend not to. 

"How about Ana?" 

His tail lashed furiously at the mention of her name. Yes, Katzchen, talk to Ana. What could he tell her? That he was slowly tiring of having the pretty Katzchen hanging off his arm like a trophy? That he couldn't help thinking about breaking it all off and finding someone else, someone more intelligent, more mature, more down to earth than the shallow freshman? That what he really _really_ wanted was three lockers down from his and wouldn't even look at him? 

His eyes flicked towards Ana's locker, where she was struggling to carry three heavy books and several binders without dropping them. His sensitive eyes picked up a slight sheen of sweat on her forehead as she shoved her things into her locker; her breath short and slightly painful. There were deep circles under her eyes, and her skin was much paler than usual. No cloud of ambient emotions surrounded her, either; instead, the very air burned with non-existent heat. She was skittish, nervous, and jumped when someone touched her. She looked sick. Very, very sick. It troubled him. 

Raising a gloved hand to her forehead (for the gloves had re-emerged after almost three months without them), she sighed. It too was a painful sound. He tried to remember the last time she had been like this; completely shut in and without feeling. Painfully shy. Afraid to feel. He turned away. It hurt too much to see her like this. She was starting to regress back to the girl in a shell, the girl she had been six months ago, before she came to them. 

He started to say something to Katzchen, wanting to leave the hallway quickly. Katzchen, however, was dashing to Ana's side, saying something. _Stupid Katzchen, stupid girl!_

"…help him a little, please? He's so depressed all the time!" He pretended not to notice the snatches of conversation drifting towards him. His locker was suddenly very interesting. 

"I don't know, Kitty…" His sensitive ears picked up her soft voice even in the noisy hallway. "What could I do?" 

"I don't know…Make him happy, or something. Use those shot things you do." Ah, shots; those little thrills of emotion that she would throw at people when they touched her, thrills that he loved so much. When he had first met her, she didn't have the control over her abilities that she had now. She was very shy then; she didn't talk much and never let people touch her if she could help it. But slowly, she opened up, in the process gaining more control and learning how to project compact emotions in little touches, affectionately called 'shots' by anyone who came in contact with her. 

But no more shots now. Only stillness from her skin. 

"Oh, Kitty…" She was looking away, a hand on her forehead. "I…I want to, but I'm not…" 

"Oh, come on, please? He's, like, unbearable like this!" This was too much. He closed his locker with a metallic bang and stalked over to them. 

"Homeroom, Leibe?" His voice was stony and sarcastic. Katzchen glared up at him. 

"See? He's, like, dead inside, or something." _Stupid girl. Stupid._ A low growl escaped his throat as he leaned against the lockers, looking away. When would this be over? "Do something!" 

This was foolish. He was going to be late for class. He made to move away from the lockers when a whisper of concern suddenly caressed his cheek. His head shot up, looking around, craving more. 

Ana murmured something, and another wave of concern kissed his skin. His eyes shot to hers - she was removing her gloves, her eyes locked on his. They looked so tired, so gem-like…Another step and she was right in front of him, reaching up to touch his cheek. The air around her wavered and dissipated - she had let down her shield. Cool hands cupped his cheeks. 

Happiness was suddenly there, mixed with comfort and love. It flowed from her bare fingertips straight to his heart, drawing a shaky moan from his lips. His tail lashed and then quieted, and the knots in his muscles slowly began to unwind. This was heaven. This was the best thing he'd ever felt. This was life. He sighed as another gentle shot floated through him. Oh, if she would never let go…_Don't let go…_

And then the happiness was gone, replaced by a cold emptiness. His eyes flew open as a shiver ran down his spine - her hands were still on his cheeks, but there were tears in her eyes. Sadness, rejection, hurt…She withdrew her hands quickly, choking back a cry. 

"Sorry," she said in a whisper, her eyes full of fear. The air around her was burning; the damn girl had put her shield up again. Katzchen's hand was on his arm. 

"Better?" Not much. But he offered her a shadow of his normal grin. She smiled back at him. Ironic; he had chased that smile in hopes she would show it to him. Now she did, and he didn't want to see it. A small clatter at his side drew his attention - Ana had dropped something. 

Their fingers reached it at the same time, brushing against each other; Ana drew back like she had been burnt, and his hand closed around a pen. 

"Sorry." There were those words again, in a small voice. She was almost scared of him. Yes, of course. Why wouldn't she be? It was all the same; no matter how much they hid it, they all feared him. All of them. _Monster._

Katzchen tugged him away as the first bell rang, signaling the mass migration to homeroom. "Thanks, Ana!" she called as they made their way down the hall, away from her. Ana didn't look up; she just nodded. Her hair hid her face - he couldn't see her eyes. Such beautiful eyes…Diamond and sapphire, set in gold…So beautiful. 

"…listening to me? Hello? Earth to Kurt?" He shook his head and looked down at Katzchen. She wasn't smiling anymore. "Jeez, what'd she do to you? You were staring at her like she was me or something." 

_Maybe that's what I wish you were._

The feel of plastic in his hand was smooth and cool. He looked down at the pen; it was dark blue marble, shot through with gold streaks that reminded him of her hair. He glanced back towards her one last time, hoping to see more than her retreating figure. 

"Walk you to class, Dora dear?" _Pietro. Pietro, bastard, damn him!_ The silver-haired boy was leaning casually against the locker beside Ana's, an easy grin on his handsome features. _Damn it all, get away from her!_

"Pietro, no," she said in a soft voice that carried to his ears nonetheless. "I have things to do now…" 

As he watched, a flash of concern blew across Pietro's face. "You look paler than usual, Dora. The badger been working you too hard?" To an untrained ear it would have sounded like an insult, but there was definite concern laced between the sarcasm. "I'll get rid of him for you, ya know. It would only take a second." 

"I'm fine, Pietro, thank you." Ana shut her door and turned away from him, her hands clasped at her side. "Logan hasn't been letting me train lately." There was a note of sadness in her voice for a moment, and he could have sworn he saw Pietro shudder slightly. Even from halfway down the hall, he could see the leather of her gloves stretched tight over her knuckles. 

"Come on, I'll walk to you class." He gritted his teeth, feeling his fangs dig into his lower lip as Pietro took her arm and began leading her away down the hall, away from him. She protested futily, but as he watched her she gave up, leaning a little more heavily on his arm. He could almost make out a grateful smile as they turned the corner, Pietro as animated as ever and waving his free arm around and _she was smiling…_

A trickle of blood seeped unseen from his lip, and he held a hand up, knowing that his hologram protected him from attention. There was no blood on his hands, but he could feel the stickiness congealing on his fur. Unseen, but still there. What a metaphor for his life. He absently licked his lips, wincing slightly and tasting the salty metal of his blood. And he wondered. 

_What have I done wrong?_

_**Two shots of happy, one shot of sad,   
You think I'm no good, well I know I've been bad,   
Don't try to figure out what we might have had,   
Two shots of happy, one shot of sad…**_

* * *

And Part Two of _Three Sunrises_ is now complete! I'm so proud of myself for *gasp* actually finishing what I started. *nod*. 

Full of angst, I know. I don't know why, it's just what was begging to be written. I think I'm most proud of the last two paragraphs, just for the pure angst-content. It makes me happy to make people miserable, I think. I'm such a sadist :) 

Part three is done except for a few editing things, and then it's done. So hooray. I hope you enjoyed it! 


	3. Acrobat

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men, though the dashing Cajun mutant in my closet may have some disagreement with that statement. Why anyone would want to steal an original character is beyond me, but this is your advance warning, or said Cajun will take her back forcefully. Otherwise, enjoy. 

A/N: Just to clear a few things up: Ana's empathy works both ways; she can feel others emotions, and they can feel hers, if she projects them right. She has a sort of shield she can project that prevents others from feeling what she projects, though stress or particularly strong emotions can work their way through it. The shield also requires constant awareness to maintain, and takes most of her energy. Anyone interested in a more detailed explaination can email me for details; I've got a profile on her somewhere that might make some things a bit clearer.   


Third Sunrise (Simplicity) 
    Unwitnessed, unappreciated; the sunrise this morning is simply blue and white light, illuminating the landscape in its simple glow. But, its simplicity is its beauty. Somehow, no one can see the gentle wonder, but by nightfall, the world mourns the passing of beauty, and wonders when they will see its like again.

**Acrobat**   
_Flip, turn, twist…don't drop anything_

_Yes. Calm, quiet. No one around. Halls are empty, no one to hide from._

She pushed her long hair out of her eyes and sighed as she reached her locker, leaning against the cool metal. _Four more hours._ She wiped her gloved hand across her forehead and shivered. 

The strain from keeping her shield up 16 hours a day, seven days a week was starting to take its toll on her well being. She couldn't concentrate on anything for more than five minutes for fear that her shields would fall. Her appetite had failed her - she was loosing weight. She had a constant headache and her skin was going pale. Her hair lost its luster. Her hands shook. 

She was surprised that no one noticed. Well, no one said anything, at least. She wouldn't know what to say, anyway. How could she really explain what was happening? No one would truly understand, anyway. They didn't know what it was like, being an empath. They couldn't understand having to keep her emotions under lock and key so they wouldn't betray her. It was hell. _Death was better._

Glancing around the hall, she sent out a tentative feeler, checking for stray students. _No one around. Safe._ With a sigh, she leaned against the cool granite wall and let her shields down. The air around her lost the shimmery clouds, invisible to most people, and the strain on her head dissipated. For the first time that day, she smiled. 

She shook her hair out and opened her locker. A glance to the small mirror there told her she looked as bad as she felt - there were deep circles under her eyes. She assumed it was because of lost sleep; it was hard to guard emotions in sleep, so she could only really doze, not sleep deeply. Never in front of anyone else. Only in the quiet and privacy of her room could she let the shields drop and relax, and even then she was on guard. And so, the night hours were a blur that spun with color and light and phantom sounds. Not much different from the day, really. 

But there was no one around here, in the halls between classes. She could safely let her emotions untwist themselves and relax for a moment. She pulled her long gloves up higher - Evan had mentioned that morning that she was starting to look like Rogue, all covered up and looking like she'd never seen the sun. She sighed and ran a shaky hand through her hair. 

Maybe she should tell someone. Sooner or later they'd figure out something was wrong, very wrong. But it was silly, and they would think so, whether she told them or they found out. And she couldn't risk that. The emotions she was guarding were too precious to let anyone know about them. Let them be her little secret and maybe everything would work out. It was easy to say that, though, and another thing entirely to try and keep her fickle emotions under wraps. 

Almost before she could feel him Pietro was in front of her, the soft breeze that followed him whipping her hair around her face. He grinned handsomely; he felt silver-blue, as always, zipping through happiness, indifference, annoyance and something not unlike concern in a matter of seconds. Sudden red-hot fire bubbled to the surface as he leaned in close, nose almost touching hers. 

"Hey, Pandora," he almost-whispered, his voice very low. She blinked, trying to pull whatever emotions she had let untwist into a semi-shield. Although…it felt nice to not have to hide anything from one person… 

She looked down, hands twisting fitfully at the thin scarf around her neck. His eyes felt warm against her skin, or it could just be a trick of her power. Strong emotions always felt hot. "What's wrong, 'Dora?" She tried to repress the thrill that ran through her when he called her that; Pandora, the woman that unleashed such horrors, but held hope…Part cruel, but part clever, part something that made her feel, in a strange way, beautiful. And beautiful, unlike everything else, was something she felt very little. 

"N-n-nothing, Pietro." That was another thing - her stutter was starting again, after almost three years of absense. Her own embarrassment burned holes through her fitful defenses; Pietro's eyelids flickered slightly as she glanced up. No doubt he could feel it. 

"There's definetly something wrong, 'Dora." He grinned suddenly, brilliant pride flooding his body. "Am I making you nervous?" 

"Nervous?" Her hands twisted together of their own volition. "Nervous…no, not nervous…" Her stomach seemed to be twisting in knots. "I-I-I'm just tired, is all…" 

"You getting enough sleep?" There was another flicker of concern in the ice-blue swirl around him. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and shrugged slightly. Her body felt like squirming under his eyes. "You look horrible." 

"I know." She hadn't meant that to come out in a growl, with the weight of annoyance and hurt behind it, but it had. Pietro leaned back, surprise racing across his face. 

"Whoa, sorry I mentioned it." Just as quickly, his face was inches from her again. "But what's really wrong, 'Dora? Something's got your panties in a twist." He grinned at his own joke. She twisted away, pulling more of her shield around her as she did. It wasn't much, but it masked his emotions as well, and if she felt any more of those joltingly hot bubbles of…_something_, her stomach was going to drop into her toes. 

He was still behind her, burning. She almost eased up her full shield, but common sense prevailed and it remained down. Her brother had once joked that her shield had to recharge, lest it run out of batteries at a crucial time. Remembering the headaches that used to plague her, and the same headaches that were reemerging now, she simply prayed that Pietro would go away, and let the prickly feeling of annoyance surround her like spikes. 

"Well, I can see I'm no longer wanted he-" Pietro's voice faded into the background as she felt the sudden presence of vibrant yellow worry around the corner. Her stomach began to twist in a very familiar way. She blinked, rubbing her eyes. Pietro felt worried, as well. "'Dora? 'Dora…Ana, what's wrong?" _No._ It was Kurt, it had to be. No one else was as yellow as him. _He can't know, he can't know, he_ can't _know!_

She slammed her shields up with so much force that her head spun and she stumbled. Her stomach twisted and churned, and her hands started shaking uncontrollably. Short of breath, she felt her knees give way and hit the ground hard. The linoleum was cool against her hands. _Maybe I have strained myself_…said a small corner of her mind as color burst in front of her eyes. Somewhere, she felt Pietro burn red again, and he called her name again, from far away. _He called me _Ana… 

Kurt was there beside her in an instant, and Pietro disappeared as suddenly as Kurt appeared. "Sheisse, Ana!" His words were muffled. She blinked rapidly. The lights were dimmer than before. Her headache was suddenly much, much more painful. She couldn't breathe… "Ana, Ana, no!" Kurt's voice echoed tinnily in her head, calling for help. Telepathy, for Jean. Jean and the others. They would know soon. _They can't know…_

In the back of her mind, another voice echoed; a vaguely animal-like presence perched at the base of her consciousness. **_Shield must go down._** It was a fracture of her subconscious, she knew. It always emerged in times of strain. 

_No._ She struggled to sit up and push aside Kurt's hands; he was brushing her hair out of her face, saying something. She couldn't hear it well. Footsteps stampeded down the hall, and she recognized the emotion patterns of her friends. 

"Let me near her." A hand touched her shoulder, receiving a nasty shot of fear from the hyperactive shield, and withdrew. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I can't control it…_"Don't touch her, she's afraid." Jean. She'd recognize the green emotions any day. _**Shield must go down**_, the presence said again. _**You will die.**_ She swallowed hard, directing all her energy toward maintaining her fragile barricade. The air crackled around her. 

_Better to die, then._

The presence seemed to growl softly. _**Die instead of feel?**_

_Yes. It's always better that way._

_**Foolish.**_ Her entire body began to shake, her breath coming in short gasps that didn't give her enough oxygen. Her eyesight was dimming. It really _was_ killing her. 

_**Regret makes a bad afterlife.**_ Her energy was drained, her mind spinning. Yet, despite it all, she managed a little smile. 

_I only have one regret._ Her sight went dark. _But goodbye is for the weak._

And there was nothing. 

* * *

And that's it. Aren't I just a bitch? 

Before the flames start coming, let me explain: This, as I've said before, is a smaller part of a longer story, one that starts long before these three scenes are acted out. There's plenty more of this (these scenes are part of the second story in a trilogy, so the story continues much further then I've hinted here). 

And if you really want to know what happens to our dear Ana, I won't tell unless you guess. There are a few clues as to what happens to her after this incident, but they may be well hidden to anyone that isn't me. I do have another scene that was originally part of "Acrobat", but it didn't fit the ending I wanted to give the mini-trilogy, so I cut it. It's saved somewhere, so if people are interested in seeing it, I'll post what I have of it. Leave a review, or email me if you'd like to see it. 

Eventually I'll get off this romance-y angst kick I've got going here. The longer trilogy will include much more humor, I promise. If I ever get around to writing more than the prologue, that is. Work, the six or seven stories I'm working on, and trying to finish _The Wheel Of Time_ through the tenth book has got me rather busy. That, and my cousin let me borrow the new "Getter Robo" series. Anime always has a counterproductive effect on me. 

Thanks to anyone who's read this far, especially the reviewers; I really appreciate it! Reviews are always welcome (Muse likes them with his tea) and constructive criticism is my lifeblood. Hope you enjoyed it! 


End file.
